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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819291">let me have a moment, let me say goodbye</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/svitzian/pseuds/svitzian'>svitzian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Family Feels, Grief/Mourning, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Non-Graphic Violence, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Order 66, Post-Order 66, but make it sad, i really dont know what to tag this as, its just very sad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:07:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/svitzian/pseuds/svitzian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While waiting for the recalibrated signal to upload, Obi-Wan wanders the Temple one last time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn &amp; Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>let me have a moment, let me say goodbye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is kinda very sad i apologize :/<br/>i wrote it very quickly because it came to me while playing subway surfers and i also have only proofread it once so. hopefully it is not terrible<br/>once again. i apologize &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are bodies everywhere. Obi-Wan has never seen a battlefield scattered with more corpses.</p><p> </p><p>Only this is not a battlefield, and these corpses are not soldiers.</p><p> </p><p>He is mindful of where he steps. If time allowed, he would give each and every one of these bodies a proper burial. There are many burial traditions practiced within the Order, a consequence of the range of species and cultures represented among the Jedi, and Obi-Wan would see that each and every individual received the burial that tradition dictates.</p><p> </p><p>But time does not allow, and so Obi-Wan is careful to step around the splayed-out limbs, the robes that spread out on the ground where a Jedi has fallen. The least he can afford them is that most basic decency.</p><p> </p><p>He has already re-calibrated the signal emitting from the Temple, has recorded his message warning the possible survivors to stay away. The only thing to do now is wait for it to upload, and while he does so, Obi-Wan wanders the halls of the only home he has ever known.</p><p> </p><p>The residential hallways are where his feet take him first. Here, there are not so many bodies, only doors left ajar, nameplates designating to whom each small apartment belongs. Once, there was a nameplate that read <em>Master Qui-Gon Jinn &amp; Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. </em>Then, later, another, to display <em>Master Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Padawan Anakin Skywalker. </em></p><p> </p><p>The second nameplate is still displayed outside his quarters, though the second name was hastily etched out years ago. In the chaos that was the outbreak of the war, there had been little concern or time for fashioning new nameplates—and even if there had been, Obi-Wan does not know if it would’ve been so easy for him to let something as simple and material as a nameplate go.</p><p> </p><p>He does not go to his quarters, and he does not go to see that nameplate, for fear that the empty space below his own name will make him sick with worry.</p><p> </p><p>He keeps walking, instead. To stop would be to take it all in. To take it all in would be to break down, and Obi-Wan Kenobi cannot afford to do that right now. He keeps walking and pretends that he does not see the names of his friends and family surrounding him, until his feet have taken him somewhere new.</p><p> </p><p>He arrives at the largest refectory the Temple maintains. It is in the central complex, and is by far the most popular, frequented by Padawans in between their lessons and classes, by Knights and Masters newly-returned from missions, grateful to be home, to have the comfort of a fulfilling meal and the presence of so many brothers and sisters around them.</p><p> </p><p>How many meals has he eaten here? It is impossible to know, but Obi-Wan tries the math anyways, because numbers hurt less than the memories do.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, the math leaves him without an answer, and the memories win out.</p><p> </p><p>At once, he is with Qui-Gon, at the beginning of his apprenticeship, freshly returned from a mission and testing the waters of their relationship with cautious banter over a warm soup that melts away the chill in his bones, lingering from that icy-cold planet, and finding, in the end, that for all of their differences, it seems that both he and his Master are fond of a good joke.</p><p> </p><p>He is carefully watching a small, overwhelmed child with wide eyes take in the cavernous room, the many species talking and laughing and eating together, all as one, and then the boy is eating, and it hurts to remind him to <em>go slowly, you’ll make yourself sick,</em> though he is aware that this boy has had far too little in life until now—but the boy ignores his Master’s warnings, eagerly trying every single food the kitchen has to offer, and later that night, when the boy does get sick, Obi-Wan is there with a glass of water and a soothing hand on his back, and does not say <em>I told you so</em> like he would have a week ago.</p><p> </p><p>He is an Initiate, watching each Master who enters, wondering if they will be the one to take him on, to train him as a Jedi, until Garen pokes fun at him for staring, and Bant smiles and laughs along, and Reeft asks if he can please have some of Obi-Wan’s sweetcake if he’s not going to finish it, and Obi-Wan says yes, because he has never refused a friend, even one who eats as greedily as Reeft.</p><p> </p><p>He is with his friends, so many times. There are too many to name, but he tries anyways, despite the pain he knows it will cause him. He is with Quin and Lumi and Depa. He is with Mace and Plo and Kit. On a few occasions, he is even with Master Yoda, and tries not to stare as the little green Jedi slurps rather loudly, an amusingly satisfied smile on his face. The younglings at the next table are not as successful as Obi-Wan in their attempts to hide laughter, and Yoda only smiles more in response.</p><p> </p><p>He is a child no older than four standard years, with the other members of his clan on their first exploration beyond the creche, Docent Vant leading them into the room that seems bigger than any room could ever be, and Obi-Wan is overwhelmed with the feeling of <em>life,</em> singing through the Force, humming the tune of the Jedi assembled here, each an individual melody but forming a beautiful harmony in conjunction, and as the feeling seeps into his bones, his <em>soul,</em> Obi-Wan smiles wide enough for his cheeks to ache.</p><p> </p><p>Now, the Force does not sing, and all there is to feel is emptiness, the hollow of death.</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan does not remain in the refectory for long.</p><p> </p><p>He walks again, and this time, he passes the training rooms. More memories float past him. His earliest sparring matches, just as much play as they were training. Countless Padawan’s Tournaments. The first time he had practiced with his own saber. Recruiting Master Gallia to help Anakin with his Form V, and later, being recruited by Anakin to help Ahsoka with Jar’Kai.</p><p> </p><p>He nearly stumbles over a training saber, abandoned in the middle of the hallway, and decides that maybe his focus should be on the present. He gives a valiant effort, but his focus does not last long.</p><p> </p><p>He passes meditation rooms, and thinks of the hours spent there. He thinks of reminding a fidgety young boy to try and stay still, to focus on the Force rather than his impatience to get to the more physical parts of Jedi training. He thinks of when <em>he</em> was that fidgety young boy, when <em>he</em> was the one receiving such a reprimand. He thinks of the peace he’d once found in himself, in the Force, within those walls, and wonders if he’ll ever find that peace again after what he’s seen today.</p><p> </p><p>He does not think so.</p><p> </p><p>He passes the Halls of Healing, and thinks of his earliest cuts and scrapes, earned from rough play in the creche and accompanied by tears that began to subside only when one of the Healers would offer him a sweet. He thinks of the nasty virus he caught on a mission to Florrum when he was fifteen years old, and even though he thought himself enough of an adult to handle the throes of the illness on his own, he still found comfort in the fact that Qui-Gon didn’t once leave his side. He thinks of too many times in the past few years that he has ended up in those Halls, under Master Vokara Che’s careful supervision, with so many wounds of war. He thinks of awaiting the end of a healing trance that lasted <em>days</em> after Geonosis, that dreadful time when he had first truly registered how close he had come to losing his Padawan—</p><p> </p><p>He stops that thought before it leads to another, before the despair he felt then follows him into the present. He cannot think of losing Anakin right now. He <em>cannot.</em></p><p> </p><p>He walks, and finds that even the hallways are filled with memories, so strong that his weakened spirit is hard-pressed to fend them off. These halls have heard so many conversations, have eavesdropped on mission briefings and quiet reprimands and hard-won praise. They have seen him at his worst and at his best, but most of all, they have seen him <em>grow,</em> as they have thousands of other Jedi. <em>Thousands</em> of Jedi, for thousands of years, and yet in all of that time, Obi-Wan cannot imagine that these halls have ever seen a tragedy like what has occurred today.</p><p> </p><p>He realizes, only then, that he mourns for the Temple just as he mourns for each of the bodies within it. He mourns for this place which has seen him grow, which has <em>helped</em> him grow. He mourns for its halls, devoid of life and now, tainted with this immeasurable loss, never again to see a herd of giggling Initiates, or another precocious young Padawan, eager to impress their Master, or a group of Knights, united not only by the Force, not only by friendship, but this singular place which they all call home. One day was all it took to destroy that future. <em>One day,</em> and now, the Temple will never again be the place it once was.</p><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan knows that he should not be so morbid. The memories, he knows, will remain, and he will hold onto them, because it is all he can do, the only way he can think to honor his friends, his <em>family</em>—but with those memories, he knows, will be <em>this</em> moment, <em>this</em> memory, of corpses scattering the floors, of emptiness where there should have been abundance, where there should have been <em>life. </em>He wants, selfishly, to try and forget, to close his eyes and pretend he does not see, pretend he does not <em>feel</em> the Force crying out, mourning just as he is—but he cannot, he knows that without even trying, and he <em>will not, </em>because he owes that, too, to his family. He will remember it all.</p><p> </p><p>He could not save them. He cannot save them, and he cannot remain here. He cannot even grant them a burial. But Obi-Wan Kenobi vows to <em>remember,</em> to make that his final act of—<em>mourning, gratitude, love, </em>he does not know which it is, or perhaps it’s simply <em>all</em>—and he hopes, too, that <em>one day, somehow,</em> he might not have to remember anymore, that everything that was once within these walls will return.</p><p> </p><p>He knows that his time is up. The signal should have uploaded by now. He will make sure it has, and then he and Yoda will leave, because they cannot linger. All the same, he allows himself one final moment to stand, to <em>feel,</em> to release it all into the Force, and he <em>hopes </em>again, more desperately than he has in years—</p><p> </p><p>And then, having said goodbye to his only home, Obi-Wan steps around another body, and returns to the calibration chamber to face what the future holds.</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i apologize for the third time for how sad this is<br/>if you for some reason enjoyed the sadness and would like to help me feel good about myself please feel free to leave kudos or a comment and i will cherish it &lt;3<br/>you can find me on twitter @G0NKDROID or on tumblr @dotnscal</p></blockquote></div></div>
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